


Black Moon

by eeyore9990



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, M/M, Naked!Stiles, Protective/possessive!Derek, Stiles stream of consciousness, Stiles' mental wanderings, Very not explicit, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then there's the Black Moon.  </p><p>Which really doesn't make any fucking sense because it means there <i>is no moon</i> (well, okay, not really, the moon doesn't like, <i>disappear</i>, but it just...doesn't get full in a calendar month).  And apparently when that happens?</p><p>It brings all the supernatural shit to town.  Like witches looking to line their wombs with special spark sauce.</p><p>*see notes re: warnings</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoodlemouse13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoodlemouse13/gifts).



> For Zoodlemouse13, who asked for Protective/Possessive, Top!Derek. 
> 
> The very nature of the plot (lol) of this fic involves a witch planning to sexually assault Stiles. He is not hurt, and is in no real danger, and treats the whole situation with a great deal of flippancy, but if even the suggestion of forcefully taking someone's sexual control away might trigger you, please pass on this fic.

[So. One thing everyone should know about full moons is that there are a lot of them. No, wait, that sounds silly, but it's true. Sure, they happen like clockwork--once a month; twice once in a _blue moon_ (goddamn, Stiles is a funny fucker)--but what Stiles is really talking about here are the _types_ of full moons. There's a Wolf Moon, a Hunger Moon, Death Moon, Egg Moon, Flower Moon, Strawberry Moon...look, each month has its own moon, and after March (the Death Moon), the names of them just kind of lack all sense of awesome.

Stiles wants to meet the ancient pagans who named January through March though. Those fuckers must have been rock stars.

But the point is, there are also seasonal moons (Harvest Moon, for example).

And then there's the Black Moon. 

Which really doesn't make any fucking sense because it means there _is no moon_ (well, okay, not really, the moon doesn't like, _disappear_ , but it just...doesn't get full in a calendar month). And apparently when that happens?

It brings all the supernatural shit to town. Like witches looking to line their wombs with special spark sauce.]

 

 

Which was what found Stiles in his current predicament. Which wasn't so much a predicament as it was a ... Situation. A naked situation. With a woman.

This was like the start of every fantasy his fourteen-year-old self had ever had. You know, before he discovered internet porn, and.... Getting off track.

"So, look," Stiles said, smiling his most polite and charming smile, because he wasn't opposed to sex with a pretty lady. And this lady? Kinda fucking gorgeous. Like, if Derek and Lydia had babies gorgeous. (Which Stiles has not spent too many hours contemplating while refilling--and immediately depleting--his spank bank over.) 

(The making of the kids, not the kids themselves!)

(Jesus, he's not a pedophile!)

"I get that you want all up on this, because I'm a full fledged hottie--" Stiles ignored the look of disdain the woman threw his way, "but usually I like a bit of romance first. Little Stiles is all about candlelight and soft jazz music, okay?"

The woman stuffed his mouth with some kind of herb satchet, which. Ugh. So not tasty.

(Also, not the best way to shut him up. His tongue is fucking _dexterous_ , okay?)

"So, yeah, like I was saying," he said, a hundred and forty nine seconds later--a personal best time when it came to clearing his mouth of unwanted gags, thank you, "I am not morally opposed to the sexy fun times. But my dad? Kind of made me promise not to knock up any chicks until after I'd graduated because 'kids aren't cheap, Stiles.'"

The satchet was back, with duct tape. That was gonna hurt like a bitch when Derek inevitably yanked it off.

A low growl permeated the air at that exact moment. Stiles grinned around his gag. Speak of the fucking devil and his eyebrows of doom will appear. Bitch was gonna get put in her place.

Except how she didn't because bitch was packing wolfsbane powder, and apparently Derek had shown up solo.

Stiles saw red and let go of the ropes that had formed the bonds around his wrists. He'd slipped them easily a few minutes after Druid Barbie tied them and had just been waiting patiently ever since. 

(Look, the pack always gets grumpy when Stiles rescues himself more than twice a month. He was waiting for them because he's a good friend who hates their collective puppy looks of disappointment when they don't get to him fast enough.)

Jumping down from the big rock that had been all prepped for Stiles and his magic jizz of hot, hot lovin', Stiles walked over to the witch, drew back his fist, and knocked her the fuck out. 

"No means no, bitch," Stiles muttered after taking the time to peel the duct tape off and spit out the satchet. Because lines like that? Pure fucking gold.

Turning to where Derek was coughing and sneezing and rubbing seriously watering eyes, Stiles went up to him and pulled his hands away. "Shh. Hang on, just let your eyes water for a minute. It'll flush that shit out." And, okay, yes. Stiles was blatantly staring in awe as the tears filled and overflowed Derek's eyes because, hnngh. 

Derek should cry more often. So pretty.

"Dammit, Stiles." Derek, still blinded by the effects of the wolfsbane, pulled Stiles roughly toward him, hands running all over Stiles' body in seach of injuries while he buried his nose in Stiles' neck, sniffing at him. And then he went perfectly still.

"Stiles?!"

Stiles wanted to respond, because that was a serious note of concern in  
Derek's voice, but his brain was offline at the moment because Derek's hand was on his ass, his thick, blunt fingers so fucking close to Stiles' crack that if he twitched his hips...Little Stiles perked right up at that thought.

"Stiles, why are you naked?"

Oh, good. Derek was going to ignore the fact that Little Stiles was trying to drill a hole through his hip.

"Because--" Well, fuck, the bitch was rejoining the party. Stiles so needed to hit the gym if he couldn't even take down a petite girl with his right hook. "I plan to harvest the seed of the spark. And you, little wolf, are not invited to play."

"Oh my god, what kind of a witch are you? It's not even a Harvest Moon!" Stiles was so writing a sternly worded letter to J.K. Rowling after this.

But his interjection was completely ignored because Derek got all growly again, arms tightening around Stiles--hnngh--before he pushed Stiles behind him. "You can't have him."

"He is unclaimed. You have no right to deny me." And then the witch crossed her arms and pouted at them with lips that could rival Lydia's. She even stamped her foot. If she wasn't obviously a proponent of rape, Stiles might have found her little fit adorable.

"He is _mine_ ," Derek snarled, popping claws and looming menacingly.

" _Hnngh._ " No, okay, obviously Derek didn't mean that the way Stiles' brain was choosing to interpret it, but Jesus fucking Christ, all his masturbatory fantasies just became reality.

"Prove it."

Okay, Stiles officially took back every bad thing he'd ever thought about this lovely, lovely woman, because she was obviously his own little fairy godmother. He tried to make heart eyes at her over the top of Derek's shoulder, but of course no one was paying any attention to him.

Until they were. 

"What the hell are you smiling about?" Derek asked, his beta face all scrunched up and constipated-looking.

"Dude, seriously? This is like porn made specifically for me. The universe suddenly loves me."

Derek blinked, his face shifting back to human in the time it took his eyelashes to make the trip. "You..." he looked away. "You want her?"

"What? No." Leaning around Derek, he smiled to take the edge off his words. "No offense, you're very lovely and you'll make some spark somewhere very happy. Eventually. Like, in five to ten years after you get out of jail for attempted sexual assault. Because I am totally pressing charges."

"Then how is this your idea of porn?"

"Oh my god, you ignorant freaks," the witch muttered. "He's obviously gay for you."

"Excuse you with the hurtful words and labels, missy." Stiles looked at Derek and shrugged. "I like to think of myself as sexually fluid. I am a stickler for knowing the person first, though."

Derek stared. And then looked down, like _all the way_ down, and Stiles was instantly reminded that he was standing there buck ass nude. And that Little Stiles had been--and still was--very interested in claw boners and possessive claiming-type growls. 

"Fluid?"

Stiles cleared his throat. "Fluid. Flexible, even. You might even say I'm bendy. Sexually. With sex."

"Stiles?" Derek's gaze travelled _all the way_ back up Stiles' naked, naked body, lingering momentarily on Little Stiles. There was a serious glint in his eyes when they finally locked with Stiles'. "Prove it."

 

[In the end, the witch got away (only briefly because Derek got her license plate number and the Sheriff tracked her down like a bad ass), the rock altar of lovin' got christened (which they both agreed to never do again, because oww), and the calendar flipped over to a new month. A better month.

A "Stiles can sex up Derek whenever he wants" month. Which turned into months. Then years.

Look, by the time the witch got out of jail, Stiles was still having all kinds of hot, porny sex with Derek. The end.]

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah, not beta read. Please let me know if you spot egregious errors.


End file.
